Tennis

As the small
Yellow ball sores towards me
I feel the muscles in my arm
Tense up as I grip my racket.
As my arm moves through air
I feel as if I am cutting the air.
The racket comes into contact with the ball
As the ball travels through the air
I feel vibrations travel up my arm,
And into my body.
As I run from one side of the court,
To the other,
I feel everything below my feet.
The rocks, the concrete,
And even a bug or two.
My hair flys out of my face.
And beads of sweat appear on my forehead.
Feeling every ray of sunlight,
And every slight breeze.